Celestia sat beside Luna in the circle of chairs and smiled reassuringly at her. ”It’s just like I told you,” she whispered. “There are many other new or returning ponies here since our last meeting seventy years ago. You’re not the only one.” She waved across the room and smiled. ”See, there's Sombra. He's missed just as many meetings as you.”

“I don’t understand.” said Luna. “Our enemies have delivered themselves. Even now, they plot to overthrow us. Should we not capture them here? I would not see our subjects suffer needlessly.”

“No,” sighed Celestia. “It wouldn’t be fair to Twilight.” Celestia looked to her student across the room. “She’ll enjoy doing it later.” She took a bite of cake. “Besides,” she said, still chewing, “it’s important for everypony to have a safe space to talk about our problems without fear of retribution.”

Sombra smiled and nodded at the pair, pouring himself another cup of punch. “I couldn’t believe at first that you’ve all kept this up,” he told Chrysalis, who stood at the buffet with him.

“Some things never change. I mean, look at Celestia. Still eating all that cake and never gains a pound.” They both looked to the plate floating beside Celestia, holding four pieces of cake. ”She disgusts me.” Chrysalis sipped her coffee.

“Isn’t coffee a pesticide?” asked Sombra.

Chrysalis sprayed her mouthful of coffee onto Sombra. “Why didn’t someling tell me about this before?” she demanded.

Sombra wiped the coffee from his face with a hoof. A flick of his wrist flung several droplets to the ground. His horn flared as he changed into a mist and reformed a foot away, fur and clothes cleansed of coffee.

“They’re trying to poison me!” accused Chrysalis.

“Don’t be silly, Buggy,” said Pinkie, popping up beside her. “You’d need to drink tons of coffee to feel its effects. If they wanted to poison you with caffeine, they’d pair it with some other pesticide. Tomatoes?” Pinkie offered her plate, but Chrysalis waved it away and Pinkie took a seat.

“What is Pinkie Pie doing here?” asked Lord Tirek, joining the group.

“I find it is best not to ask such questions,” Chrysalis deadpanned. “Come, we are about to begin. Let’s sit before all the good spots are gone.”

The milling groups took their seats and Celestia addressed the crowd. ”Welcome everypony to the 28th septuagennial meeting of the immortal support group.”

Twilight leaned over to Pinkie and whispered. “Septuagennial means occurring every 70 years.”

“Well that’s a relief,” said Pinkie, pulling out a planner and pen. “I thought it was seventy times a year.” She opened the planner and began crossing out entries.

“Wait a minute,” said Twilight, taking another look at the mare beside her. “What are you even doing here?”

“Ahem,” said Celestia loudly.

Twilight looked away from Pinkie to see the whole group staring at her. “Eheh,” she laughed weakly. “Sorry.”

Celestia continued. ”In this forum, we can discuss our problems without judgment, shame, or guilt. As immortals, we face a lot of pressures that regular ponies don’t. Let’s start by introducing ourselves. ”

Ahuizotl leaned over to Grogar. “I still can’t get over how casually racist she is,” he whispered.

“Ahuizotl,” called Celestia.

“Huh? Me?”

“Perhaps you’d like to begin the introductions.”

“Well, I don’t know where to begin. You see, it—”

CRACK! The garden door flew open as lightning struck the gardens outside. The sound of thunder followed, peeling across the room. All heads turned in time to see the flash illuminate a pony standing in the door frame, wrapped head to hoof in old bandages.

The figure halted at the attention, looking slowly around the room. ”Am I in the right place?” he asked with a raspy voice. ”I was looking for the immortals support group.”

”You've found the right place,” said Celestia as the expression of curiosity on her face returned to a smile. “Why don’t you join us.” She gestured to an empty seat.

He nodded and began walking to the circle with a slow and dragging gait. The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds as they all watched him shuffle forwards.

“Shut the door!” ordered Tirek, rubbing his arms. “You’re letting in a breeze.”

“Sorry,” rasped the newcomer, turning slowly back towards the door.

“I’ll get it!” shouted Luna and Chrysalis in unison. The door slammed shut in the collective glow of their magics.

“Not only is she racist,” Ahuizotl said to Grogar, “but she’s ableist too.”

“That was the other one,” corrected Grogar.

“Whatever,” replied Ahuizotl. “All the ponies look the same to me.”

“Should you even be here?” Twilight asked Ahuizotl. “I thought Daring Do stopped you from becoming immortal.”

“Who put you in charge?” huffed Ahuizotl. “I don’t need to answer your questions.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the approaching pony. He’d finished turning back around and had taken another step forward. At this rate, she calculated, it would take him sixty-seven more seconds to reach his seat. She sighed and pulled out a book to read while she waited—Daring Do and the Immortal Flower. She could read at least three more pages in that time.

The others watched his approach in silence. Well, almost in silence. Pinky munched loudly on popcorn. Grogar glanced in disdain at her. Pinkie tilted the bag towards Grogar. He stared at it. Pinkie shook the bag gently. He shrugged and took a hoof-full.

Finally reaching the chair, the bandaged pony pulled it to the side. Everyone winced as it scraped along the floor. He sat, then scooted the chair forward with another round of scrapes and wincing.

“Are you good?” asked Cadence when he finally appeared settled.

“Good?” he asked raspily. “I am far from good. Good trembles at my approach.”

“More like winces,” said Ahuizotl.

“No, I meant like, are you done?” Cadence replied. “I want to get on with this. I’ve only got my babysitter until four.”

“Oh, yes,” he rasped. “Sorry. Proceed.”

“Before you arrived,” said Celestia, “Ahuizotl was about to tell us about himself and how he became immortal. Please, continue.”

”I don’t think—uh—” Ahuizotl glanced around the room, sweating. “I mean, this new guy! I’m more interested in him. You all know my story, at least if the sales figures I saw for Daring Do’s last book are accurate. Tell me—us—how you became immortal.” He leaned forward. ”Spare no detail.”

”I am Reshef,” replied the newcomer, ”King of the Neighgyptians.” His rasping voice was barely audible and the other immortals leaned closer to hear. ”I was born three thousand years ago. The kingdom I inherited from my father was small. Too small to contain me. In my twenty-third year, I conquered the neighboring kingdom. Others fell soon after. I spread terror throughout the region. To ensure ponies would know of my great deeds after my death, I had monuments built to celebrate my magnificence. Great pyramids reached to the heavens for my vanity. Countless thousands died to pay for that vanity. For my immortality, I paid through the nose!” He pulled a canopic jar from his saddlebags to illustrate.

“If you’re so great, King Reshef, then why have I never heard of you?” asked Sombra.

“My quest bankrupted Neighgypt,” said Reshef sadly, shaking his head. “Even my conquests couldn’t cover the costs. It made a lot of folks unhappy. After I died, they chiseled my name off the monuments. That wasn’t enough for them. They formed a secret cabal dedicated to hunting me down. It lasted for thousands of years, but their last scion finally died. That's why, for so long—” He coughed—a dry cough—and the others leaned in further to better hear his next words.

”I've been living under wraps.”

Author's Note

contest judges: Here ends the first of the two submissions. The next chapter is the next entry.